


The Miles Between Us

by jaygirl987



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 16:59:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4572456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaygirl987/pseuds/jaygirl987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're both away on separate missions. Now that he's a death scythe, he needs to get used to being wielded by others, and being a three star meister means that she'll have other responsibilities.<br/>She asks him again when he's coming home, because she can hardly stand the idea of another week of lonely nights apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Miles Between Us

 

  Her phone rings, and she almost drops it in her haste to answer it. She's both amazed and grateful to have service out in the middle of nowhere. Soul's name and picture light up the screen, and she can't contain the squeal that erupts from deep within her chest as she finally answers it. "Hello? Soul?"

 She isn't sure exactly _when_ she turned into one of his little fan girls, but she suspects it happened somewhere around the time that they took their relationship to the next level a few weeks ago.

 "Hey," His deep voice rolls down her spine, leaving shivers in its wake, and she admits that maybe she's always had a thing for him. Definetely maybe. "Miss me?" He chuckles at her quick reply of yes. "How was your day?"

  She's grinning like an idiot, hating herself just a little for not being able to control it, shrugging her shoulders as she tells him what tiny and insignificant things happened, but he seems to be hanging on her every word, soaking up her ramblings like they're an antidote for a poison he's succumbed to. 

  They're both away on separate missions; Soul in northern Texas with Sid, which he's sort of been enjoying, and Maka in southern Nebraska with Death the Kid and the Thompson Sisters, which she has _not_. Now that he's a Death Scythe, he needs to get used to being wielded by others, and being a three star meister means that she'll have other responsibilities. She'll be leaving for Death City tomorrow, now that she and Kid's two day information recon trip has ended. She asks him again when he's coming home, because she can hardly stand the idea of another week of lonely nights apart.

  His voice takes on a sultry edge as he asks her if she's been naughty while he's been away. 

  She rolls her eyes and snorts. He knows that she doesn't do THAT.

  He feigns being disheartened at her prudishness, earning another giggle from his meister. He asks her what she's wearing, and she tries to sound coy as she asks him to guess.

   "I'm hoping nothin' but a smile," he teases, the rumbling in his voice making Maka's thighs clench in anticipation of his homecoming.

  She bites her lip. "I'm wearing those little black shorts you love so much."

   His voice holds a note of slight intrigue. "Oh, yeah? What else?"

  She shrugs her shoulders, walking across her motel room to pull back the curtain to watch the rain thundering heavily upon the cornfields, which seem to be swallowing them up from all sides. "One of your t-shirts." She fiddles with the worn and soft material fondly.

  He chuckles, "'Course. What color panties you got on?" She can practically see his devilish smirk dripping with lust, his eyes undressing her, and she finds herself almost blushing at the thought.

   "Oh," she tries to feign indifference and sighs rather nonchalantly. "I'm not wearing any." She waits for a clever retort, brow furrowing in confusion when there's nothing but silence on the other side. It's not like him to not have _some_ sort of remark at the ready. "Soul?" 

  She glances down at her phone, muttering an expletive that even _he_ would be proud of, when she sees that they seem to have lost their connection. Great. She's sexually frustrated, misses her boyfriend, and drops the first call she's gotten from him since she's arrived. Could her night get any worse?

  Apparently so. 

  A knock sounds at the door, and she groans with the thought of the Thompson sisters wanting to play another card game out of sheer boredom. She doesn't think she has it in her to play Go Fish anymore.

  She pulls the door open with a huff, a quick "no" at the ready and on the tip of her tongue, but her mouth quickly goes slack in shock at the sight of her weapon leaning against the doorway, drenched to the bone from the downpour. 

  He smirks at her, his sharp teeth poking out at her past those incredibly delicious lips of his; his deep blood-red eyes peeking out at her through his damp white hair. "No panties, huh? Fuckin' tease."

  He chuckles as her hand shoots out, gripping his leather jacket tightly in a fist as she drags him across the threshold and into her arms. Soul drops his bag at their feet as his foot kicks the door shut, his mouth slanting against hers hungrily. He stumbles into her, a little weary from the ride and a lot grateful that she has such killer balance.

   She eagerly helps him shrug out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor heavily as she presses into him, trying to get as close to his body as possible. The past eight days have been hard on them both, and she's frantic in her need to feel all of him. She can already feel him straining against the constricting fabric of his wet jeans and decides to help make him more comfortable.

  He grunts, tries his best to gently peel her off of him; he wants to kiss her slowly, wants to savor the lips that he's been away from for so long. Wants to take a minute (or several) to reacquaint himself with her eyes. It's corny and uncool as fuck, but he's missed her eyes the most. "Maka." His voice is almost hoarse as he rasps her name. "Maka- wait..." His hands are upon her arms, gently trying to push her off of him.

  But she's having none of it. She clings to him as tightly as his drenched clothing, her mouth hungry against the cool wet skin of his throat. She's soaked too now, her pajamas sticking to her as well, but she couldn't care less. He gives a lusty chuckle at her determination as her small nimble fingers undo the buckle on his belt, her lips attaching themselves to his jaw, her hot mouth sending shivers down his spine; the sound of a zipper and her hand is now wrestling beneath the wet fabric to stroke his hot and hard flesh.

  Soul gasps, his hands gripping her shoulders painfully as his head falls back against the wall, eyes clenching shut in tortured bliss, his throat tight as moans begin to spill from his mouth.

   He begins to struggle against her again. "M-Maka - wait! I- I'm gonna-" But she's deaf to his pleas, her hand continuing to tease and torment. She's missed this; she's missed the way his breath catches in his throat, how his brow furrows in his pleasured expression, how he hisses her name, and how he licks his lips as his hips begin to buck against her hand. He tries to stop her again, she thinks, but she's not completely sure, until he stops suddenly, his teeth clenching as his hips jerk. Curses start spewing from his mouth, "Fuck fuck fuck- unnnggghhh- SHIT!"

  She's a bit shocked. Her hand is coated in hot stickiness in a matter of seconds, all within three minutes of him being here.

   It's a record, to say the least.

   He's so embarrassed; disgusted with himself, really. Fucking ridiculous. He's slumped against the wall. His cheeks are flushed, his palms over his eyes, strong slender fingers entwined in his hair. It'd just been so long...and he'd missed her so much... He prays that she won't say anything- prays that she won't laugh, or else he might die. This isn't how he saw their reunion going at ALL.

  He's shocked instead to find her pulling his belt through the loops of his jeans leisurely, his now lax hands falling away from his wide eyes as she lets the leather fall to the floor, the buckle hitting the carpet with a muted cluttering thud. She leans up on tip toes and kisses the shell of his ear, her breath sweet as her tongue traces the skin, kissing his earlobe gently and soothingly as her hand cups his face. Her thumb brushes along his cheekbone.

   "Maka," his voice is laced with shame and trembling. "I'm sorry...I-I couldn't- "

  She shushes him, her hands splaying up into his hair and pulling his lips to her level as she kisses him slowly, deeply. She presses her body against his, so happy to just be near him again, sighing when he wraps his arms around her at last and squeezes her as tightly as she remembers. "We have all night," she murmurs against his lips. "I've missed you, too."

   She puts enough space between them so she can finish stripping him, working on fighting with the dripping denim as he kicks off his shoes. Both weapon and meister laugh as she works hard to drag the clinging material from the clammy skin of his legs, kneeling in front of him only to fall over in the struggle, finally sitting down for comfort to peel his troublesome jeans from his feet before pulling the thin, wet cotton of his boxers down his cool flesh next. He pulls her to her feet once she's freed him of his socks so she can get his shirt next, letting it fall to the floor on top of the pile of soggy garments. 

  He strips her next, apologizing for causing her shivers, and smirks when she blushes and shyly tells him that she's not cold. She's envious of just how comfortable Soul is in his own skin, and she battles her shyness valiantly as talented fingers gently tug and lift fabric away from her slightly tense frame. He always takes her comfort into consideration, carmine eyes constantly flickering back to emerald to silently ask permission before relieving her of her layers.

  At last the final barrier is removed, and skin on skin is the best thing that's ever happened to him. His hands cup her face as she wraps her arms around his waist, pulling him to her as he kisses her between ramblings; he's missed her so much. He's thought about her every waking moment. He's going to kiss her all night, until she can't take it anymore.

  Maka's breathless at his dark promises, doesn't even care that they can't seem to pull themselves away from the wall before his hands begin to explore her shivering flesh; reacquainting himself with every little curve and dip of her body as he rolls them to switch places with her, pressing her back to the cold hard surface. 

  His lips leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, his breath warm and sultry as he presses kisses behind her ear, his tongue laving at the sensitive skin as her hands ghost along his sides. She feels like this must be some sort of crazy cruel realistic dream; it all feels too good to not be. Sharp teeth prick the thin skin of her throat, and she gasps before retaliating with dragging her nails down his shoulders. He's nibbling along her jaw, and she's trying to slow down her racing heart as she leans heavily against the wall.

  Just as he's about to kiss her lips once more, he pauses, a strange and almost comical grimace alighting his features, and she's starting to mildly panic, about to ask him what's wrong, when a sneeze catches him off guard. She's thankful that he at least had the sense to turn his head away from her. He sniffles lightly and apologizes with a small laugh, only to choke it back and shrivel slightly under his meister's firm frown. She starts to lecture him on the importance of drying off, but he tries to dismiss her with a lazy shrug and a "S'fine!"

  "No it's NOT!" She insists stubbornly, hands firm against him, turning him away from her (the fuck is happening right now?), pressing against his shoulders as she guides him to the bathroom. "You need a hot shower. Now!"

  Soul flashes a dark grin at her over his shoulder as he lets her lead him to the bathroom. He takes note of the way her cheeks light up, can already feel the heat beginning to coil in his abdomen, mumbling, "Yeah, okay. Cool."  

 

 

 

  He's gotta admit, the hot water _does_ feel great; almost as great as the feeling of Maka as her back squirms against his wet chest, her ass rubbing against him with the most enticing little wiggles.

  He'd immediately tried pulling her into the shower with him, pointing out that she could get sick if she didn't warm up, too. And what kind of weapon would he be if he allowed his meister to catch a cold? When the playful tilt of his lips didn't seem to persuade her, he upped the ante with old faithful: puppy dog eyes and a small pout.

  She'd rolled her eyes, but he'd noticed the way she'd eyed him before ripping the shower curtain out of his grip and following him into the steam.

  It doesn't take long before he's upon her, and Soul sweeps her damp hair away from her neck, alternating swirls of his tongue and nips of his teeth upon the pale and creamy flesh of her shoulder. She shudders and moans, pressing into him fully as his hands travel to her front to cup her breasts; kneading and stroking the perky flesh, causing her to drop her head back against his shoulder as she murmurs his name.

  Soul spins her around to face him, kissing his way down her body, ghosting over her navel as he kneels before her, his strong hands gripping her hips firmly as he supports her legs that are already beginning to shake in anticipation. His long, dexterous tongue blazes a trail up the inside of her thigh; he pauses to murmur about how he's almost forgotten how she tastes. Another scorching caress from his velvety tongue up her other thigh leaves her more than shaken; can he taste her again? Is it okay if he reminds himself? Glittering rubies are silently asking permission again, his lips planting kisses below her navel as he waits for her answer.

   She blushes and nods mutely scant seconds before his tongue is stripping her brain of any other capacity beyond moaning her weapon's name repeatedly. Her knees buckle, but Soul's grip is iron clad as he continues to trace the outline of her slit, nibbling his way up until he's circling her clit with amazing accuracy. He gives slow and thick licks along her center, his thumbs spreading her wider for his mouth as she fights to remember to breathe. She pants and moans as his lips wrap around her clit, his tongue flicking over the nerves as he sucks gently.

  Maka's fingers are tangling in his damp hair as she throws her head back, a pleasured cry echoing off of the bathroom walls. She bites her lip as his hands slide up the wet skin of her abdomen, his hands caressing her breasts in time with the gentle caresses of his tongue, and she finds her lower back arching and hips tilting down as his oh-so-talented tongue circles her clit again. He groans his pleasure at her responses against her sensitive skin, a shiver racing up her spine at the sensation, but it's forgotten almost immediately as his tongue dips inside of her, and it's all she can do to keep herself from downright screaming. 

  Soul sinks a finger into her knuckle deep as he sucks on her clit again, harder this time, his tongue swirling around the swollen bud as he crooks the digit inside of her, causing Maka to shudder and moan, almost oblivious to Soul's satisfied grunts and moans of how tight she is. He sinks another finger into her liquid heat, and Maka is certain that she's dying, it feels so good.

  Her fingers scrabble along the slippery tile, seeking some kind of purchase as Soul's mouth reduces her to nothing but mewls and gasps. His fingers continue to pull soft cries of his name from her chest, her fingers tightening in his hair once more and tugging just hard enough to get his attention. Or at least try to. 

  Suddenly, she presses against his shoulder, red eyes peering at her questioningly before taking note of the pretty flush that's colored her skin. She licks her lips as she breathily whispers, "Soul, please- can we, um-?" She can't take this anymore. She's about to come, but she wants him inside of her when she does. 

  The grin that he shoots up at her is absolutely sinful, his talented and long tongue licking his lips as he slides up her body, one of his hands clutching her smaller body to his as the other braces against the wall of the shower for support. His mouth is on her neck again in an instant, and she whines in the back of her throat as she presses her hips into his desperately.

  She's breathless with anticipation, her body practically humming with excitement as his teeth graze her shoulder, her hand traveling down between them to stroke him again. He bites her flesh a little harder than intended as her fingers wreck havoc upon him, her tone low and thick with passion as she tells him that she can't wait anymore; she needs him inside of her now, please.

  His voice is strained and breathless against her ear as he tells her to turn around, to put her hands upon the cool tile as his roam down the sides of her wet body to angle her hips just so. His feet kick hers apart as he kisses her neck; one of his hands covers one of Maka's on the wall as he slowly enters into her tight heat, his other hand gripping her waist for balance and support.

  His kisses are open and hot against her spine as he moans her name, mixed with a few rather colorful expletives as he withdraws almost completely before sinking back into her scorching heat deeply. She bites her lip, tries to contain her cries at the wonderful sensation of him filling her so completely once more. She feels whole again for the first time, and she can't stop her soul from reaching out to his to resonate.

  His tongue is pressing against the wonderfully sensitive skin behind her ear, his hand gripping her hip almost painfully as he growls; she's so wet. Does he feel good? Tell him how much she's missed this. He resonates with her now, their wavelengths matching perfectly as their thoughts and feelings tumble back and forth. It's dizzying as their love and desires tangle into a scrabbled jumble; she can't tell where hers ends and his begins.

  A guttural moan is pulled from somewhere deep within Soul's chest at the feeling of his meister's soul practically merging with his own. This is home. The feeling of being so connected with her had driven him forward, along countless miles of asphalt, through nameless towns and county lines. His own soul had felt the loss of her shining brightness, and it latches onto hers greedily. He kisses the nape of her neck as he thrusts into her languidly, simply enjoying the feel of her as the hot water continues to caress their skin.

  She begs him- harder, faster oh, please! He obeys without question or pause. His hand that covers hers is entwining their fingers together as he obliges, whispering that she's so beautiful. She turns her head just enough to be able to kiss him greedily, arching her hips against him, her tongue tracing his bottom lip.

  Soul nuzzles her cheek, urges and begs her to come for him, his breath hitching as she finally calls out for him, her walls clenching around him, rippling and spasming fiercely as she pulls him into her even deeper. He closes his eyes and buries his nose in her wet  hair, a deep guttural growl resonating against her back as he continues to thrust, drawing out her pleasure. 

  He whispers how perfect she is as his movements lose the pace that he's set. Soul's eyes clench shut and his teeth graze her ear as he pants her name. His muscles are tight and tense as he pulses deep inside of her, his cries throaty and low as he comes, pleasure and contentment humming throughout their resonance as she cranes her neck to meet his lips once more.

  Their link begins to fade as he finally withdraws, turning her around once more and pulling her into his chest. He tries to catch his breath, tries to collect his scattered thoughts as her hands caress his trembling flesh. She shyly whispers that she's cold, and it never ceases to amaze him just how adorably self conscious she can be when naked around him; she tends to be uptight and unsure of herself when it comes to sex, and he blames himself and his juvenile comments and teasing about her lack of sex appeal. But he's working hard to undo his previous damage.

  They shuffle and trade places so that he can tip her backwards, humming a song that's been stuck in his head for days (it reminds him of her) as she leans her head back under the hot spray. She sighs with pleasure, content to let him run his fingers through her long hair and massage her scalp.

  They wash each other slowly, not in any rush as they pause to sneak lazy and greedy kisses and caresses. Before long, both are wrapped in towels and brushing their teeth at the sink, smiling and making silly faces at one another in the mirror. He's soon yawning, and she admits that she's tired too. 

  She jumps as a loud boom seems to shake the very air around them. Maka proceeds to blush at her reaction as she pulls back the covers of the bed, dressed only in one of Soul's shirts. Growing up in the desert, she hasn't been exposed to thunder storms or rain as much as he has.

  He laughs at her discomfort. "Are you seriously afraid of storms?"

  She only huffs at him as she denies it, betraying her words with a squeak as another loud clap of thunder interrupts her, diving under the covers.

  He laughs and plops into bed beside her, wearing his last clean pair of boxers; thank goodness they're going home tomorrow. They're taking the jet with Kid and the Thompson sisters and loading up Soul's bike. He pulls her closer, teases her a bit more and earns a playful slap against his chest.

   "Goodnight, scaredy cat." He mumbles into her hair as he places a kiss upon the top of her head, hears her sigh good night against his chest, and allows himself a smile as he switches off the lamp.

 

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

  It's not until a few hours later, when the storm begins to hit a plateau, that a certain scythe finds himself half on top of his meister, nibbling the sweet skin on her neck in a dazed euphoria. She's still asleep, but he can fix that. She's already grinding her hips against the knee firmly lodged between her thighs, moaning in her sleep as Soul patiently continues his tender assault. One hand snakes its way under the fabric of her (his) shirt to play with one of her perfect breasts as the other hand pushes him up and over so that he can position himself between Maka's thighs.

  She's coming to, her hands trailing lazily and slumberously up his sides, brushing across his scar before coming to rest upon the tops of his shoulders as his lips graze her jaw. His breath is minty and sweet as he finally claims her mouth for a slow kiss. His tongue sinks into the sweet depths of her mouth, a gasp reaching his ears as her grip flutters against his hot skin.

  She sighs as his tongue strokes hers, stripping sleep from her mind slowly, like gently pulling the covers away from a snoozing form. He's in no hurry to make love to her, savoring her warmth and honest reactions to his strokes and caresses. Her fingers play with the snowy hair at the nape of his neck, her chest pressing against his as he trails his hand up her thigh, slowly pushing the fabric of his shirt up higher and higher before breaking the kiss to remove it altogether.

  His voice is rough from sleep and reminds her of crushed leaves as he wonders why she even bothered putting anything on in the first place, then chuckles with a "Touché," as her hands slowly slide the thin cotton of his navy blue plaid boxers down his hips. He moans as she wiggles beneath him to rid the garment from his frame herself, slapping his hands away when he attempts to assist her. His eyebrow arches in amusement at her stubborn determination as her feet help him kick away the barrier, the look on her face smoldering as one of her hands trails along his lower abdomen.

  Maka's fingers brush across the tip of his shaft, causing Soul's breath to hiss as his hips jerk beneath her touch. She's tracing patterns along his already hard length with her thumb as she strokes him, and his forehead presses against her shoulder as he surrenders to her fingers.

   "Maka," he pants as she increases her speed. "Not again... I need- NNGH - ugh - wanna feel you," his voice is taking on a tone of desperation. "Please," he whispers into her neck. 

  She releases him as she wraps her legs around his waist, agreeing on only one condition. He tries to pay attention, but there isn't any blood circulating to his brain at the moment. It takes her two more tries before he's finally able to allow her words to penetrate the fog of lust that seems to have set up shop in his mind. "Huh?" He finally pants, wondering if he's going deaf from the blood roaring in his ears.

  Her response is to roll him onto his back, rearrange her legs so that she's straddling him, and lean down to kiss him rather innocently, given the position that she's in. Sleepy Maka equals a rather uninhibited and determined Maka. Her defenses are down, her confidence soars and she turns into a vixen with emerald eyes shining with intensity.

  Soul is temporarily shocked into stillness as her warm breath tickles his cheek, his eyes closing in bliss as her silken folds grind against the under side of his erection meticulously, drawing out a gasp of shock at her tongue sliding its way past his parted lips. He's knocked out of his stupor and wraps his arms around her as she lifts up so that she can guide him to her. 

  They've yet to have sex with her on top. Soul wasn't willing to push it, not wanting to pressure her into doing anything that would make her uncomfortable. His patience is paying off in spades as she eases him into her, and he can't help the moan that escapes him as she begins to slowly sink, his hands gripping her waist to help guide her in long, slow strokes.

  Her hands are splayed against his chest as she arches her head back, the feeling of him penetrating so deep within her shooting sparks through her blood. They ignite as his hands reach up to caress and massage her breasts, thumbs brushing across her nipples as her hips begin to quicken. He breathes her name in awe. 

   "Kiss me," he pants, his hands pressing against her lower back to bring her lips to his once more. Her steady streams of 'yes' and 'oh' are pushing him over the edge and into the abyss as she rocks against him. Her muscles burn and scream in agony and she pauses momentarily as her orgasm clutches her in its jaws; she's barely aware of Soul as he rolls her onto her back to take over, thrusting into her wildly as her nails claw at the flexing muscles of his back. 

  He kisses her greedily, as her thighs squeeze him; his breath is hot against her mouth as he finally comes with a growling whine, his hands lifting her thighs higher so that he can reach deeper because, dear DEATH, he can't seem to get enough of her.

  She a mass of quivering muscles beneath him as he finally withdraws from her, collapses against her, balancing his weight on his forearms as he rests his cheek against her chest. Her heart is fluttering wildly like a bird in a cage, and her hands are gentle as she pulls him up to her for another lazy kiss.

  "I love you," she breaths against his lips, eyelids beginning to flutter as sleep begins to press upon her once more. "Soul."

  He brushes her hair out of her face before placing a kiss upon the bridge of her nose, falling rather ungracefully next to her before pulling her close, savoring her silky skin as she nestles into the crook of his shoulder. Crimson eyes are dark and filled with intense adoration as sleep claims his meister once more. 

   "Love you, too." His thumb brushes across her lips. "Maka."

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own any words or any characters pertaining to Soul Eater.


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